


Den of Serpents

by DraconianPrince



Category: Dorian Gray (2009), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Original - Fandom, The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Dorian is basically Harry Potter, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, Gen, Good Severus Snape, Harry Potter AU, Harry Potter doesn't exist at all, Harry Potter was never born, James and Lily died, M/M, Magic, Multi, Original Character(s), Post-War, Roleplay, Severus Snape Lives, Severus gets some more background, Severus' backstory is the same but also not, Sirius Black Lives, Sirius Black is a Little Shit, Sirius Black is found innocent, Sort Of, The Picture of Dorian Gray AU, Wizarding World (Harry Potter), but i hate james potter more, except for the secondary character, i hate lily evans, nobody is straight, post-wizarding war, she likes men i guess, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24646096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraconianPrince/pseuds/DraconianPrince
Summary: After receiving his letter to attend the famous English wizarding school Hogwarts, Dorian Gray quickly finds himself regarded as second-best in many fields, and will stop at nothing to prove otherwise. A prophecy, uttered by Sybill Trelawney ten years prior to his first entrance at the school, foretells that a child with rise to defeat the Dark Lord, and Dorian Gray is nothing short of obsessed with fulfilling this prophecy.
Relationships: Dorian Gray/Original Character(s), Dorian Gray/Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape, Regulus Black/Severus Snape, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> *In this AU, Harry Potter was never born, and is instead replaced by Oscar Wilde's character Dorian Gray. James and Lily died all the same, but Harry does not hold the same importance as he does in the stories, so therefore the entire family is hardly more than friends of the Marauders. Some characters may be OOC, but that's a writing decision, and therefore is correlated to the progression of the plot.*

The sun shone brightly overhead, basking the platform in a chilled breeze that disturbed a scattering of leaves, sending them tumbling across the way. An old man, rotund in form and brooding in disposition, lit a cigar with a muffled wave of his palm and pulled a long drag from it as his voice lifted into the air, “Go on then, boy. Get on the train.” 

Eyes turned up to him, swimming with a bred pride that no child of eleven should possess, and fluttered against the light for a brief moment, “I was, I was… The ticket says eleven.” Gathering up his suitcases, he pressed a heel into the dirt and bit back a frown as the elderly man pushed him. A moment passed as he gathered himself together, drawing a deep breath and weaving between the bustling crowds of excited children to reach a divider between platforms nine and ten. 

Quietly, he looked down at his ticket and read each word carefully, gaze landing resolutely on the number 9 ¾ before shifting back up to take in the brick wall before him. If this were to fail, he had absolutely no backup plan. A quick scan of the crowd informed him that the old man had left, rendering him on his own for inevitable embarrassment. “Right,” holding a posh yet hesitant tone, a voice echoed from his lips, nearly surprising him in how uneven it sounded, “platform 9 ¾ …” 

The ticket returned to his pocket and a snake, perched in a silvery cage atop his trolley, looked warily up at him, china-blue eyes seeming to plead with him, ‘Don’t do this. You’re unsure.’

He knew what he was doing, though. His family, for generations, had passed this very gate and entered the world of Hogwarts. He would too, and he knew it, so with a deep breath, he leaned against the handle of the trolley and jogged forth. As if washed in cold water, he passed through, breaching the other side and nearly careening into a frail-looking witch. She spat and cursed at the boy, waving a feeble hand towards him and shuffling off towards the gate he’d just come through. “Bloody hag,” he spat under his breath, a screeching whistle drawing his attention over to a chugging, red steam engine. Steam billowed against the sky-glass, muddling the sunlight blazing through like mint in a Mojito. Clearing his throat, the boy pushed his trolley forth and rummaged about in his pockets for his ticket, holding it out to a conductor who gave him a contemplative look. 

“First-year?” The conductor mused, taking the ticket and punching it before offering it back out. With a nod, the boy stepped passed him and onto the train, a trolley boy pulling his things off down the platform to pack them away into cargo. He was left with one briefcase standing as his carry-on, his snake winding about his shoulders and entwining itself into wind-swept brunette hair. 

Shoving through a scattering of students, he found a vacant compartment and shoved his things into the overhead storage, flopping unceremoniously down into the seat. As he reached to pull the snake from around his shoulders, who had simmered into a fitful sleep and was displeased to be woken, the compartment door slid open. 

“Hi-” a girl began, putting her shoulders back to hide the fact that she had likely sprinted to make the train on time, “Is there any space in here? I’d have sat with my sister, but I’m afraid there isn’t room-” She trailed off, peering down the aisle when the train suddenly lurched. “If not, then I’m sure I could- Gaius! Have you found a seat?” 

Another boy, who looked startlingly similar to her, leaned into the compartment doorway and shook his head, “If I’d found a seat, I wouldn’t be standing in the middle of the aisle, would I?” 

With a scolding sort of smile, the girl looked back to the brunette already residing in a seat, brightening her expression and adjusting a sweatshirt on her shoulders. 

“I suppose,” he ghosted, cradling the snake in his lap and pressing his lips into a thin line, “I’d have preferred the compartment to myself, but-” With a roll of his eyes, he settled on declaring the idea impossible, “as we see, that preference is moot.” The girl laughed vaguely, settling a bag into her lap and pulling the drawstrings. First came out a wand, and then a set of books, followed by a cat larger than the girl herself. With a thunderous purr, it draped itself so far across the seat that Gaius, who hardly looked up from his book, had to move to sit in the adjacent seat. 

In an instant, as the behemoth of an animal turned lamplight amber eyes towards him, the brunette clambered up into his seat. The train rocked again and his arm rose to grab the overhead compartment and help him regain his balance, but he kept his eyes focused on the cat. She lovingly carded her fingers through Alaskan tundra-ready fur, tilting her head up to look at the boy and evaluate his actions, “You’re not fond of cats, are you?”

“Cats?” He spat back, voice incredulous and high, “That is not a cat! That is a…” He searched for some words to describe the animal sitting before him, settling resolutely on, “Saber-toothed tiger.”

“He is a cat,” she responded calmly, cradling the animal’s massive head in her palms while she soothed it with endearing little praises. The cat growled, voicing a tone of contentedness that implied the Hogwarts Express had derailed and was now taking a gravel path, and lashed a massive tail across the seat. “He’s a Maine Coon, to be precise, and his name is Love Bug.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh, pressing his back against the compartment wall and perching his snake back upon his shoulders, “A Maine Coon… right. Right, right- named Love Bug. He’s big enough to eat a child-” 

A smile grew upon her lips. “Actually, Bug is a sweetheart. He’s a big baby.” With a muttered grunt, she pulled ‘Bug’ into her arms and cradled him against her chest, where the cat dissolved away. A saucer-sized paw pawed at her cheek and a large tongue caressed the side of her face, turning into a rumbling purr that drowned out the sound of the train chugging over steel tracks. 

“Jade,” she suddenly spoke again, extending a hand past the mountain lion gyrating in her arms. When she was met with a perplexed look, Jade sighed and tried again, “My name is Jade Charles. And-”

“You’re the Charles kid?” The boy lifted his chin, skepticism painting his face and leaving his eyes vaguely narrowed, “My uncle knows your mother, I believe. He doesn’t have a single positive thing to say about her. According to him, your entire family is deeply conceited and deserves nothing less than- Why are you smiling?”

Indeed, she was grinning at him. It was a wide enough grin that he found himself mildly intimidated, and as he reached out his hand to shake her own, she shrugged. “I just agree with you, really. She’s a terrible woman. Your uncle is right. Now, if you would let me finish my question, I’d like to.” The boy sat back, indignantly sucking in his cheeks and meeting her gaze, “Who are you?”

He shifted his eyes between Bug, and then the still-reading Gaius, and landed finally on Jade. Considering who he was and who they were, he’d expected the girl to bow at his feet or at least immediately recognize him. But, she didn’t, and this agitated him. “Who am I?” He sneered, pulling his hand away and exhaling through his nose. 

“That is what she asked, yes,” Gaius commented. The snake hissed at him, coiling back around his owner’s shoulders as he finally summoned up his answer.

“My name is Dorian Gray.”


	2. Chapter Two

The Hogwarts Express rattled over the tracks, jostling a windowpane in its frame on the occasion that it took a particularly rough bend. 

“Are you excited to learn magic?” Jade looked to him over the top of Bug’s head, leaving Dorian with an uncomfortable wrinkle to his brows in regards to the animal. 

“No. I’m absolutely disappointed.” His voice was slow, eyes turning to the window with a shake of his head. The question was absolutely preposterous in his mind, and he decided that if he was rude enough to her, she might just get up and go stand in the aisle until the train stopped in the Hogwarts station. Instead, she scratched behind her cat’s ears and tossed her head back. 

“If you’re being honest, then I’m sure you will adapt just fine. I’ve heard Hogwarts is a lovely place. I’m excited most for herbology, transfiguration, and astronomy. I heard there’s a potions class too. My sister told me all about it. She’s a Ravenclaw, actually. My older brother James-”

“I don’t care in the least.” Dorian snapped at her, though her spirits could hardly be considered dampened. “If all you’re going to do is ramble about your vacuous little family unit, then I would suggest searching through that book of yours for a spell to _glue your tongue to the roof of your mouth.”_

With a huff, he turned back to the window, though he could feel a vein in his temple pulse as she held up a book of advanced charms and incantations, “There isn’t one. I’ve checked. Apparently, you can engineer your own hexes, though, which sounds amazing. Do you know any-”

“The only hex, curse, or _spell_ I know is first-degree murder.” Her voice finally tapered off and she cleared her throat, depositing her book back into her bag with a slow nod. The silence hardly lasted a moment before the train slowed to a halt, bringing forth another observing statement from the girl, “We’re here.”  
\--

Students gathered on the platform, stepping in groups onto the small boats that bobbed about in the water, transporting them across a night-blackened lake and to the looming stone structure on the other side. “Sick,” Gaius raised a hand, framing the edge of the castle with the side of his hand, “It’s a castle.” Dorian rolled his eyes, shouldering past him to step into the boat waiting against the pier. The seat beside him creaked and there was Jade, whispering in another language to the fluffy mound stowing itself away within her bag. There was no way that Bug should have fit, and so for a moment, he fixated himself onto trying to figure out. She must have noticed, for she looked over to him and raised her brows, “Capacious Extremis. It’s an extension charm. With it, I have enough space for all of my books,” she leaned down to look into the bag, continuing to speak as she did so, “snacks, my wand, a sweatshirt, Bug-” 

A booming voice interrupted her, causing Jade to lift her head and redirect her attention. Dorian followed the commotion to an enormous man brandishing a lantern, which swung in the air and cast sporadic streams of light across the faces of the students, rays glittering on the surface of the water. “First-years this way,” it called, and a frame that Dorian had perceived to be a trick of the shadows turned, blocking out an expanse of the grounds behind him. Instantly, children began clambering off the boats, tripping over the seats and offering disgruntled murmurs towards the water lapping at their shoes. As they were filed through the front gates, Dorian gripped his suitcase to his torso and managed down a revolted sneer. 

Implying that there was no social divide was a laughable understatement. A boy with flaming red hair and a spattering of freckles gaped at the doors before him, a rat writhing in his arms before crawling up his arm to take residence in his breast pocket. Another girl, laden down with mousy-brown hair that frizzed away from her face, grinned and pulled a book from her own bag. “The castle’s enchanted. I read in Hogwarts: A History…” 

Dorian didn’t hear her finish, reeling away from a poltergeist as it danced overhead and tossed small rocks at the heads of the passing children. A woman, who Dorian had to careen his neck to see, waved her hand and shouted up at him, “That will be enough, Peeves! Save the pestering for another time.” Peeves released the bundle of pebbles in his hands and they showered down onto a boy, who was on his knees and feeling along the floor. “Has anybody seen Trevor?” He asked, and Dorian could have sworn he heard a boisterous ribbit as something shot passed his foot. 

The woman, who soon after introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, gathered her robes and waved her hand to open the large, wooden doors before them. Inside sat four tables, each laden with older looking students. At the far table resided a plethora of students trimmed in a rich green, offering out an air of conspiracy and overall ill-will, and who Dorian recognized from his uncle to be Slytherin. Next was a table of students, who each sported a book or trinket or conversation in some way, wore robes tailored with a royal navy, and left Dorian to decide that they must be Ravenclaw. Jade squeezed in to stand beside him, lifting her hand to wave at a girl who was already sitting down. Dorian concluded that it must be her sister, and he silently willed for Jade to be sorted into Ravenclaw so she would leave him be. 

The next two tables appeared if not mildly more jovial. One sported golden collars and a series of older, giggling girls, who were trading around sweets and hushing each other down on the occasion. This table could only be Hufflepuff, and that left Gryffindor. Dorian’s uncle had always approached that house with spite, claiming that they were filthy muggle-lovers, and he was inclined to believe his family over anything else. 

McGonagall gathered all of the students together, and with a sweep of her arm, lifted a tattered old hat onto a stool sitting at the front of the room. Several first-years around him chittered excitedly, and a bit away from himself, a silver-haired boy clapped his hands vibrantly. 

Dorian shook his head and looked to the stool, expression contorting into vague concern when a rumpled seam split open and began to sing:

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

Applause erupted around him and Dorian parted his lips, shaking his head eventually and deciding to clap along with them. If it were any representation of the professionalism he would face moving forward, Dorian was sure that he wouldn’t survive much longer than his first year. McGonagall began to read off a name, and Jade turned to nudge his arm. 

“What house do you think you’re going to end up in?” She tilted her head, though barely gave him a breath to answer before she nodded towards the sorting hat, “I hope that I go to Ravenclaw with Ashlyn.” Dorian raised a brow, concluded that Ashlyn was her sister, and finally worked in his answer. 

“I’ll be a Slytherin. Everyone in my family has been. My father is a Slytherin, I’ve heard, and my uncle is as well. I’ll be put in Slytherin.” The silver-haired boy from before stepped onto the platform as ‘Akeldama, Veredin’ was summoned, and was promptly sorted into Hufflepuff. She nodded and shifted her weight from foot to foot, stepping forward when McGonagall called out, “Charles, Jade.”

The girl hurried up onto the platform and settled on the stool, offering a brief smile to Dorian as the hat was lowered onto her head. It lingered on an idea and then wrinkled together folds of material, eventually calling out into the room, “Slytherin!” The table on the far side cried out a welcome, and she waved to Dorian as she stood and went to join them. The next two boys, who Dorian hardly caught the name of but presumed was along the lines of ‘Rudy’ and ‘Florence’, were promptly sorted into Hufflepuff.

Before he knew it, McGonagall stretched the parchment out once more and read off his name, “Gray, Dorian.” The brunette offered a smug smile and took a seat, though the hat hardly ghosted the top of his head before rattling in the air. “Slytherin!” It shouted, and McGonagall lifted it into the air once more for the next person. As Dorian took his seat at the Slytherin table, Jade leaned over and smiled at him, “You were right, I see.”

Dorian shrugged a shoulder and lifted a bone-dry goblet from the table, turning it over in his hands before giving it an expectant frown, “When do we get to eat?” A Slytherin girl wearing a shimmering badge on her uniform turned her head towards him, “After the sorting ceremony.” 

A frown came to his lips and he threw his legs over the bench, deciding reluctantly to watch the rest of the ceremony. Gaius was sorted next in Slytherin, and he soon enough ventured over to the table and sat on Jade’s other side, pointing around at everything with an appalled look, “The candles… they’re floating-” Jade nodded and he settled down, reaching out to pull a candle from the air and turn it over in his hands. 

There was a fuss from the front of the room as a freckled brunette was ushered away from what could only be his brother, fighting against McGonagall for a brief moment before she’d settled him down onto the stool. He was pale and looked a trembling breath away from fainting, though as the hat cried ‘Gryffindor!’, he seemed to deflate. Straightening herself out, McGonagall took a deep breath and turned back to the first years, “Monifore, Winston.” The older twin sat upon the stool with a much more polished demeanor, and as he was sorted into Hufflepuff, the first twin fell away into short sobs. “Pathetic…” Dorian muttered, deciding he’d had enough of the sorting ceremony. After an unendurable length of time, McGonagall ended on ‘Zabini, Blaise’, who was sorted off into Slytherin, and soon enough food stretched out across the table. Plates glittered in the candlelight and jovial conversation covered up the sound of the Gryffindor boy vehemently weeping on the other side of the Great Hall. 

An uproar of laughter echoed at the far end of the Slytherin table, headed by a boy with bleach-white hair and a self-important grin, and Dorian turned his gaze over to it. “Prick…” he muttered under his breath as the blonde boy threw an olive at the back of a Ravenclaw girl’s head, exhaling shortly and looking back down to his plate. The prefect lifted her chin and shook her head vaguely, “His father is hardly any better. My father works in the ministry, and Lucius Malfoy is known to frequently drop by. He has a lot of influence over several divisions, last I heard.” 

Dorian shrugged a shoulder and took a large bite out of a dinner roll, “His father ought to cuff him around the ears instead of spending his hours at the Ministry, then.” The brunette raised a brow and sat up just a bit straighter, surveying the rest of the room. His eyes stopped on the staff table, where a younger professor with a disposition resembling an overgrown bat had paused in the middle of a conversation to stare back at him. The professor leaned forward slightly and caught the attention of McGonagall, who sipped from her goblet as she listened to him -- from the looks of it -- prattle on under his breath. 

“Who’s that?” Dorian swallowed the last bite of his roll and pointed over to the staff table, circling his finger around the outline of the professor, “The really pale one.”

“Professor Snape,” the prefect nodded and looked over to where he was pointing, “He teaches potions, but everyone knows it’s the Dark Arts he fancies. He’s been after Professor Quirrel’s job for years… everyone thinks he’s a right git, though. Absolutely terrible to every student he meets.” 

“I’m hardly sure that’s true,” Jade offered back, shaking her head and taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

“So what if he is?” Dorian leaned forward against the table and lifted his own goblet, “Everything’s a bit temperamental until it’s bent into shape. I’m sure he’s no different.”


	3. Chapter Three

The following morning, Dorian was awoken by a thump to his forehead. Groaning, he lifted a hand to rub at his face, shoving his hair out of his face and turning over in his bed to escape the sunlight pouring across the room and into his eyes. “Bloody… hell…” he wheezed lowly, propping himself against his elbow so he could survey the room. 

He jolted when he realized that the shadow looming over him from behind was indeed not a coat rack, and was instead Gaius, storm-grey eyes squinting at him as he took a rather large bite from a piece of toast. Crumbs showered down onto the bedspread and Dorian gave a concerned expression, half expecting a nonchalant announcement that the dormitories were enveloped in fire. Instead, Gaius stepped back and swiveled on his heels, one hand going into the pocket on his robes as he crammed the remainder of the toast into his cheek, “This isn’t an acceptable time to be sleeping. Get up.” When Dorian gave a dismissive shake of his head, he continued, “Jade sent me to wake you.” Gaius fished a folded piece of parchment from the pocket he’d been feeling through for the last moment and tossed it to Dorian, who snatched it from the air and popped the sheet to rid the material of crumbs.

“Right, well tell her to shove off.” Dorian grimaced, rubbing his temples and rummaging through his closet for a shirt. Everything within the closet was silk, and as his fingers skimmed against the tailor-fit fabric, the only decision came to which color he wanted to wear. “Monday is a lilac color, don’t you think?” Gaius stared at him and parted his lips, gesturing to the window and taking in the ice-cold sun creeping up on the horizon. 

After a long, and rather awkward, silence, he turned back to Dorian and spoke with some Socratic tone to his voice, “Monday is a day for colors that are bold and smooth, not floral. Besides, lilac is suited more for picnics than Professor Snape’s classroom.”

Dorian stared back at him as he hooked the shirt back into his closet, exhaling through his teeth, “Right. The potions professor. I forgot that he looks like the devil’s shadow.” He frowned, and with that thought, chose a black shirt.

\--

The dungeons were suffocating, filled with the festering aroma of bottled animals and ripening plants. Jade sat beside him, her pencil tapping on the desk as she took in everything about the classroom, “Where do you think he gets all of this stuff?”

Dorian shrugged faintly, propping his jaw into his palm and forcing down the headache pounding against his temples, “I have no idea, but he should take it all back. Half of the stuff looks like he went grave robbing for it. It’s p-” He was interrupted as the classroom door slammed open, producing a billowing figure that waved a hand to close the entrance again. Snape marched to the front of the room, enveloping the room in a bit of a gloomy bitterness.

“There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class,” he began, swiveling around on his heels to address the class directly, “As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, those select few…” His gaze drifted, landing idly onto the Malfoy boy, whose lips quirked into an admiring sort of smile, “who possess the predisposition…” His voice was drawling, and Dorian found himself absolutely dozing off. Jade, who had lingered onto every word that the man was saying thus far, was furiously scribbling his words, though managed to keep complete eye contact with the potions professor. Snape gathered the edges of his cloak and crossed them into his arms, fixating his gaze onto the brunette snoring against his palm, “I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death…” He paused once more and Jade turned her eyes to Dorian, silently willing him to wake up and listen to the man speaking now, assuredly, directly to him. 

“Then again,” Snape resumed, “maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to _not… pay… attention!”_ The last words were spoken with a hostile pointedness, which led Jade to finally shove her elbow between the sleeping boy’s ribs. He woke with a start, cursing her lowly and carding a hand through his hair as he looked back to the professor. 

Snape uncrossed his arms and extended one hand to rest on a pillar near where he was standing, brows narrowing together into a careful calculation of the boy. “What is your name?”

Dorian lifted his chin and sat up, clasping his hands upon his desk and regarding the man with a near-disgusted look, “Dorian Gray.” Jade hissed for him to add a ‘sir’ at the end, but he deliberately neglected her. 

“Dorian Gray…” Snape mused, though didn’t seem impressed in the least, “Tell me, what would I get if I combined powdered root of asphodel with an infusion of wormwood?” Dorian shrugged haphazardly, studying the nails of one elegantly manicured hand, “Ten plus for drug manufacturing?” 

Snape pressed his lips into a thin frown and ignored Jade entirely, who was nearly bouncing in her seat in an attempt to answer. His eyes remained firmly on Dorian, who was staring back with a disinterested simper. “Incorrect,” Snape chided, “Let’s try again. Where, Mr. Gray, would you look if I asked you to find me a Bezoar?” Once more, Jade’s hand went into the air, but she was ignored. 

Dorian offered a half-hearted shrug, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other, “Somewhere in a puddle of mud along the road. Perhaps not far from your childhood-” Snape interrupted him with a declaration of a week’s detention, which didn’t seem to upset the brunette in the slightest. 

“We’ll try once more,” Snape uttered, stepping away and turning his head cynically, “What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?” Dorian shrugged and Jade threw her hand into the air, though dropped it back to the table in exasperation when a sneer stretched across the professor’s face. “Pity,” his voice came far too soft, though dripped with the disappointment of a murdering man watching a corpse burn far too fast, “Clearly… wealth isn’t everything. Is it, Mr. Gray?” Dorian stared back at him, tutting under his breath and pulling over his textbook to take notes at last.

Snape watched him for a long moment or two before turning abruptly towards the board again, a piece of chalk silently rising from its holder to begin writing on the board. “Turn to page seventeen,” the professor instructed, cloak fluttering behind him as he rested his hands on the podium, “Antidote to Common Poisons.”

\--

“Where has your mind gone?” Jade jogged to catch up with him after Potions, dragging her bag over her shoulders and frowning, “Sassing a teacher is the worst idea you’ve had this year and it’s our first day with him!” As he finally slowed to a manageable pace, she pulled a hair tie from her wrist and tied her hair back. “What have you to say for yourself? Is this how you’re going to be to all of them? Some of them actually seem like they would be nice!”

Dorian stopped and reeled to face her, eyes narrowing and cheeks drawing in as he lifted a finger, “What makes you think that I’ve _anything_ to say for myself? He deserved it, really. And why do you care anyway?” Turning again, he stepped through the stone archway leading to the middle courtyard, “You met me, count them,” he held up his hand, thumb and index finger held down to represent a numerical value, “three days ago. I could drown babies, and you would be none the wiser.”

“I don’t believe you drown babies,” Jade retorted, “You’re not the kind of person who drowns babies. You don’t walk like it, you don’t dress like it, and I’m sorry but the name Dorian Gray hardly screams ‘baby killer’. It’s more of… debutante with familial issues.”

“I am a debutante.” He mused, a sway taking to his shoulders as he held his chin a bit higher and settled on a stone bench, “So… I will inform you that you’re half right. However-” his hand lowered to gesture flippantly towards her, “fifty percent is still failing. But, since you know so much about me, I’ll give you a second try.” He leaned back into the bench, deciding that he would disregard half of what she said and fill in space with admiring the flowers. 

“You’re very oriented on your appearance but also seem to have little regard for how your personality is perceived, which says that you think people only care that you look pretty. You come off as vain, arrogant, and entitled, but deep down you just want someone to care about you more than what you have to offer, which is hard when you only surround yourself with people who play into the whole ‘beauty is external’ crap.” Jade finished with a curt nod, leaving Dorian to tilt his head down and stare up at her. 

After a long moment of silence, he began to laugh, and then he began to clap. “I suppose…” Dorian ascended from the bench, flashing a debonair smile and resting a hand on her shoulder, “Oh, I may have use for you yet. Now, for the hour that we have to kill, I would like to let you know that I care deeply about what people think of me, so long as it is positive.” She walked into the castle with him, listening as he spoke, “I have a friend by the name of Henry Wotton. He’s a young acquaintance of my father’s, really, but he sits with me and talks while my uncle makes drinks. Either way, Harry - as we call him - likes to plant thoughts into people’s minds that could be considered unsaintly and incorrigible within a god-fearing man’s heart. However, he’s a very wise man. He told me once, Harry did, that he chooses his friends for their good looks, his acquaintances for their good character, and his enemies for their good intellects.”

Jade frowned vaguely, watching the ground and eventually flickering her eyes back up to him, “So I’m an enemy?”

Dorian slowly nodded, patting her back and pulling his hand away to return it to his robe pockets, “I’m afraid so, Miss Charles.” Jade exhaled shortly, making to step off down a separate corridor before the male spoke again, “But, Miss Charles, we reach a crossroads. I, as a student of all the finest arts, am highly susceptible to change and you slot yourself into many requisites. Therefore,” he extended a hand to be shaken, and Jade hesitantly did so, “you might find yourself among my friends if you’re not careful.”

Jade put her shoulders back and shook his hand once, her brows raising, “And you, Dorian, might find yourself being expelled by Professor Snape if you’re not careful.”

**Author's Note:**

> *In this AU, Harry Potter was never born, and is instead replaced by Oscar Wilde's character Dorian Gray. James and Lily died all the same, but Harry does not hold the same importance as he does in the stories, so therefore the entire family is hardly more than friends of the Marauders. Some characters may be OOC, but that's a writing decision, and therefore is correlated to the progression of the plot.*


End file.
